A Soul's Journey
by velociraptor52
Summary: Spike goes on a trip to find out what having a soul means, but he gets a lot more than he hoped for when strange dreams start to haunt him.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just like making them my puppets in a show.

A/N: This story takes place after Lie My Parents Told Me. We never knew where Spike goes after the beating Wood gave him, did we? Reviews would be helpful!

Summary: Spike goes on a little trip to find out what having a soul means.

_A Soul's Journey_

Spike walked home alone at night. The night after Robin Wood gave him a beating he'll never forget.

But something was still odd after the ordeal. Somehow, what Wood said was true. At least, to Spike it was. The words slipped into his mind with every step he took. He growled, shifted into vampire face, and tried to block out those words, but he failed.

"Animal like you," Wood had said to him. "Never cared for anyone but yourself. No one else mattered. Just all about the hunt."

Spike shook his head, and his face shifted back to human. _It's true_, he thought, _I never care for anyone but me_. Animal, evil, and a soulless thing—those words people said to him hurt, even though he's a vampire. They never understood his pain…the torture of a soul. But they still call him those words. _Oh, no, they can't call me a person_, he thought, _I'm always an animal._ And the only thing separating the vampire he is now, and what he used to be is the soul.

"Sure, I can still kill, but it'll be out of my own free will," he spoke aloud. "And I can barely live with the stuff I did in my past."

Spike knew about how Angel would loose his soul if he had one moment's happiness, but Spike didn't know about the price of his soul. And if he will loose it.

"Angel will help me," he said out loud, as he stopped in front of Buffy's house. Even though Spike was reluctant to go to Angel for help, he needed to. "I just need to learn about my soul," he said to no one in particular. "And I just need to—" He hesitated. He didn't want to finish the sentence.

The upstairs light was on in Buffy's house. Spike looked up to the window of Buffy's room and saw her getting ready to go to bed. He broke apart his gaze at Buffy, turned around, and headed off.

And as he walked off into the night, he said the words he was reluctant to say before. "And I just need to get away from Buffy."


	2. The Demon Bar

_Chapter 2: The Demon Bar_

     Spike walked all night, along a deserted freeway, thanks to the fact that Clem 'borrowed' his car, and to the demon that he lost his motorcycle to in Kitten Poker.

     The sun was close to rising, and as Spike passed what looked like some sort of diner he decided to take refuge there.

     He opened the door to the diner, and walked inside.  "This is not a diner," he first said as he looked around at his surroundings.  The diner was actually a demon bar, with a dozen or so demons gathered at one very large table, and seven vampires at the counter, staying clear of the demons.  The place smelled like beer and with his keen vampire sense of smell, heavily perfumed with blood.  Cigar smoke filled up the place, making him cough loudly.  The demons at the table turned around to take a good look at Spike, and when Spike noticed this, he just waved them off and made his way to join the other vampires at the counter.  

     The demons grunted and turned back around, focusing on their cards, and seven, tiny kittens in a small basket set on the middle of the table, meowing and climbing all over each other.

     The bartender was a vampire, and was chatting with his buddies when Spike walked up and sat down on the stool.

     "Trouble?" The bartender asked him curiously.

     Spike nodded.  "Yeah.  Been walking all night."

     "Oh," the bartender replied, "because it just looks like you got into a fight." The bartender motioned to the various bruises on Spike's face, and the cross mark on his left cheek.

     "Yeah, I have.  Don't want to talk about it, though," he added when the bartender opened his mouth to speak.

     "Actually, I was going to ask you what you wanted.  A vampire like you," he laughed, "needs some blood."

     Spike sighed, took out some money, and laid it on the counter.  "Anything you got, give me it."

     The bartender crouched behind the counter and pulled out some blood in a jar.  When he straightened up, Spike was giving him a wary look.

     "Blood?  In a jar?"

     "It's a thing," the bartender replied sharply.  "My name's Bill."

     Spike grinned.  "Okay, Bill, tell me, got any of those in a cup?  Or something clean?"

     Bill just eyed him and poured some blood out in a cup, and handed it to Spike, who accepted it without any argument.

     The vampires, two stools down, stared at him weirdly as he drank the blood.  Spike noticed, put his cup down sharply and snapped, "What?"

     The vampires reacted to this and returned to their discussion about high blood prices at bars. 

     "Oh, don't mind them," Bill said.

     Spike, who was still eyeing the vampires, looked at Bill, and asked, "What?"

     "I mean, it's not everyday that someone like you comes in here, a rebel vampire and all," Bill explained.

     Spike, getting irritated by all the weird creatures and whatnot, asked again, "What do you mean?"

     "You smell."  

     Spike, who was drinking his blood at the time, accidentally spit some out, put his glass down, and replied, "Okay, not usually the compliment I was looking for.  I mean, sure, I haven't bathed in the last couple of days, but that's no reason for you to go and rag me off about how I smell and all—"

     "What I meant was," Bill interrupted Spike, "that they smelled your soul.  Once you walked in, I could even sense it.  Us vampires, strong sense of smelling.  And plus, we're not stupid."

     "Yeah, okay, you found out, no need to throw a big surprise party, now that everybody knows, at least." Spike drained the last drop of blood from his glass, set it down, and moved it away from him.  "Besides, what do you know about souls, old Billy boy?" Spike asked sarcastically. 

     Bill sighed and closed his eyes.  "Because I have one."

     Spike tried to keep a straight face, but he was laughing inside.  "You…?" He burst out, laughing hard.  "You have a soul?"

     Bill opened his eyes and looked at Spike, who was pounding his fist on the counter, laughing.  Bill grinned.  "Yeah, sure, laugh now.  Won't be so funny when you hear the story that comes along with it."

     Spike stopped laughing, but even still thought that Bill having a soul was funny.  "Okay, go on, tell me the story."

     Bill took a deep breath, and began.  "I was turned into a vampire around the 1800s.  I didn't have any friends at my vampire stage, or my human stage, so I got used to it.  Then I fell in love with the most beautiful girl on Earth.  I loved her even before I got sired, but was too afraid to tell her, so I thought that since I was a vampire, I had courage.  So, I walked up to her, and told her, then and there, that I loved her.  She gasped, and started crying.  She told me that she used to love me too, but then I went away, and she thought it was for good.  She got married, while I was still in my own grave.  I got mad.  Angry at her for marrying someone else other than me.

     "So one night, I broke apart.  I just couldn't take it anymore.  I wanted her, needed her, so I did the one thing that I wish I hadn't: killed her husband.  I was there when she walked in, she saw her husband lying on the couch, dead, and she ran into the kitchen.  Later I heard a piercing scream, followed by a loud thud.  She killed herself…

     "I was so angry with myself.  I just wanted to die, but, being a vampire and all, I couldn't.  So I did the next best thing: I got my soul back." He finished.

     _Wow_, Spike thought, _he did all this 'cause he loved a women_.  Spike had tears in his eyes, but he tried not to show them.  "Nice story," he complimented.

     Bill smiled.  "Thank you."

     Spike sighed, and stood up.  "Well, sun's still up.  Can't go out and play," he joked.

     "You can stay here until night comes along.  I have a few spare beds in the back, along with a couple of showers," Bill offered.

     Spike nodded, and walked into the back room.

     The back room was like a small closet, yet big enough to walk around in.  He felt the wall besides him, and couldn't find a light switch.  Spike sighed and then felt his way around the room, careful not to bump into anything.

     "Hey, Bill, no light in here!" He shouted, then tripped, falling to the ground.  "Ow, bloody—hey, what's this?" He grasped a flashlight, turned it on, and shined it to what caused him to trip.  "Oh, God." 

     Spike hurried out of the back room and confronted Bill, a sick look on his face.  "Okay," he said calmly, "I walk into the backroom, find that there's no light switch, then I trip over something, I find a flashlight, turn it on and do you know what I saw back there?  A teenage girl.  Dead.  Now, what do you have to say to that, Bill?"

     "I say," a demon walked up behind Spike, "that you get out of here before I tear your body to bits and pieces."

     Spike turned around, face to face with the demon.  "You talking to me, cause I wasn't listening."

     The demon growled and raised his fist.  "Oh, I suggest you revise that sentence…" 

     "Or what?  Kill me?" Spike jokingly suggested.

     "That'd be a good start…" the demon showed its razor sharp teeth, and raised his fist above his head, then—

_     Swish!_

     Spike went flying into the wall behind him.  He shook his head.  "Bugger," he whispered.  "Goin' down in a fight.  A demon fight, might I add." Spike got to his feet, shaking slightly.  "Okay, see, getting' the first punch, that's not what usually happens when I get into a fight.  When I get into a fight, I usually do it my way." He limped as he walked to the demon.  "I usually do it like this…" 

     The demon raised his fist again, and was about to punch Spike when he caught the demon's fist, and kicked him in the shin.

     "Ow!" The demon groaned in pain as Spike brought the demon's caught arm behind his back.

     "Beg for mercy," Spike whispered to the whimpering demon.  He hardly noticed one demon coming up behind him with a chair in tow.


	3. The Winner Gets the Prize

_Chapter 3: The Winner Gets the Prize_

     "Hey, buddy!  Watch out!" Bill's voice came into Spike's mind, along with the whimpering of the demon he had a grasp on.

     "Huh?" Spike turned his head to see whom Bill was shouting too, but it was too late.

     The second demon raised the chair high in the air, and brought it down on Spike, but he reacted instantly and grabbed it with his free hand.

     "Back off," he whispered through clenched teeth, and with the rest of his strength, threw the demon back into the wall.  But the other demon Spike had a grasp on broke free, and grabbed his arm.

     Spike winced in pain at the demon's strong grip.  "Ow, I think you broke my arm."

     The demon put on a fake worried look, and replied sarcastically, "Oh, really?" Then he threw Spike into the wall where the other demon crashed in to, and laughed evilly.

     Spike winced as he tried to stand up.  "Okay, you win…" But Spike had another plan in mind.  A rope was near him, which was connected to a chandelier to the ceiling, keeping it held up.  And who was standing under it?  

     "Hey!" That was Bill.  Spike faced him as Bill threw a hand knife to him.

     Spike caught it easily and brought it down sharply, cutting the rope.  The chandelier started to shake, then came zooming down on the demon.

     "Hey, demon, head's up," Spike shouted, grinning at his good plan, and the fact of him winning.

     The demon looked up.  "Uh-oh," he said his last word as the chandelier crashed down on him, knocking him out, and in the process, stirring up a lot of dust.

     "I won," Spike said weakly before blacking out.

_     He was running through the woods.  The woods back at home: Sunnydale.  He was breathing hard, and with every step on the ground, the woods lengthened.  Escape was impossible.  The trees were thick, and heavy, dense fog settled on the ground.  He tripped on a tree root, and fell on his hands and knees._

_     "Why?" Buffy's voice came through the trees, almost sounding like an echo.  "Why did you have to go?"_

_     Spike looked up, and in the distance, there was a bright light.  And in the center of the light was…_

_     "Buffy…" Spike got up on his feet, out of breath.  "I didn't mean to-"_

_     "You left me.  What did I do wrong?  Why are you keeping me guessing where you are?  And if you're safe?"_

_     "Listen, pet, I have a very reasonable explanation.  If you could just listen to me-"_

_     "I'm tired of playing these games.  If you have a soul, where is it?  A soul should bring you strength, courage—but since you left, your soul must bring you weakness."_

_     Spike blinked.  This was unlike Buffy.  Usually in his dreams, Buffy was nice, and if this was his dream, then-_

_     The leaves at his feet blew away from him, and the bright light darkened.  Buffy smiled evilly, and then started to change into him._

_     "The First Evil," Spike said to himself.  "I should've known."_

_     The First Evil, in the form of Spike, smiled.  "Yeah, it's me: The First Evil.  Amazing, really, I found this device that enables me to come into a person's dream."_

_     "But why me?" Spike asked, pained that the Buffy in his dream wasn't Buffy.  "Why do you have to invade my dream?"_

_     "Oh, I'm just not visiting your dreams." He snapped his fingers and Buffy appeared next to the real Spike._

_     "Spike?  Oh, boy, my dreams are getting insane," Buffy said._

_     "Buffy…" Spike began.  Then she disappeared._

_     "I'm visiting her dreams, also.  Making her believe that you killed yourself," The First Evil explained to Spike._

     "Why are you torturing me?  And Buffy?" Spike asked, angered by the fact that The First Evil would do such a thing to Buffy.

_     The First Evil grinned.  "What can I say?  It's a gift I was born with." Then it disappeared._

     Spike woke up.

     He was in a bed.  

     And he was aching everywhere.  He remembered the fight.  And the fact that he won the fight made him feel a little stronger.  Then he remembered the dream.  The First Evil came to him in his dream, but what did it say about a device?  And what could the device do?

     Spike sat up.  His head hurt, his arm hurt—he was amazed his brain didn't hurt from the fight.

     "So, you're awake?" Bill came into the room.  He had lots of energy, so much anger, and even though he didn't show it, Spike could feel it.  "I cleared the body out that demon left in here.  Took me a while.  Then I carried you in here, and bandaged you up, since you were knocked out."

     Spike nodded.  "What injuries do I have, doc?"  He was slowly drifting back into consciousness, and was still rattled about the dream.

     "Oh, nothing compared to the demon's injuries.  All you have is a scratch here and there, not to mention a broken left wrist, which should heal up pretty quickly," Bill explained.  

     Spike sighed.  _Well, at least I haven't lost my memory_, he thought.  "What happened to the demon?  And please tell me he got scared and ran away," Spike tried to make a joke, but he hurt too much toe even think about jokes.

     "Well, after the fight, all his demon buddies ran away—well, rode away, actually, on their motorcycles.  I thought that they'd come back for the knocked out demon, but they didn't.  I checked to see if he was still alive even, but he was dead.  He had a good motorcycle, too.  Left it outside for you, so you can get to where you're going," Bill explained hastily.

     "A motorcycle?" Spike asked, just to be sure if he heard correctly.

     Bill nodded.  "Yep, a motorcycle."

     "Oh."

     Then it became quiet.  Spike looked around at the room he was in.  There was a little bedside table, with a lamp on top, and dust covered the closed blinds at the window.  This must be the backroom, Spike thought.  Little sunlight came through the closed blinds, as the sun started to drift down behind the mountains, but it still lit up the room just enough so they could see.  Bill sighed, and Spike glanced at him.  

     "So," Bill broke the silence, "what's your story?"

     "My story?" Spike raised an eyebrow.  "I don't have a story." Then, as a poor attempted joke, he added, "Unless you want to hear the story about the fight with the demon."

     "The story about your soul.  Why'd you get your soul?"

     "Oh," Spike took a deep breath before beginning his story, "it all started a year ago, maybe two.  A friend died, and her friends brought her back to life.  To make things simpler, I loved her, she loved me, she told me she used me, I got mad, tried to hurt her, felt guilty about hurting her, and then I got my soul back.  I don't really want to go into the details on the story." _And not to mention the part about where I hurt her_, Spike thought.

     Bill nodded.  "Nice story…really simple."

     Spike laughed.  "Yeah, thanks." He felt much more stronger, brighter, and the guilt inside him felt lighter.  

     "So, this girl you loved, who was she?" Bill asked, suddenly interested.

     Spike's laughter faded.  His eyes became hard and distant, as thoughts raced through his mind.  "She is the Slayer." _My one and only_, he added.

     "Really, now?" Bill grinned.  "You were in love with the Slayer?  That's like Phantom of the Opera.  She'll never love you."

     "I realize that," Spike snapped at Bill.  "You don't have to go and make things harder for me than it already is."

     Bill raised his hands in defense.  "Hey, apologies here.  I'm waving the white flag."

     "Good," Spike whispered to himself, then to Bill, he asked, "Did the sun go down yet?"

     Bill nodded.  "Yeah, it did.  So you're free to go." A loud crash came from the other room.  "I need to go check on the guys," he offered, and he left.

     Spike got out of bed.  His leather duster was lying on the end of the bed, while his boots were on the floor.  He picked up his duster first, and put it on, then sat on the end of the bed to put on his boots.  When he finished putting on his boots, he stood up.  He still felt weak from the battle, but not weak enough to get to where he was going.  All he hoped for was that he could still be able to ride the motorcycle, even with his broken wrist.

     Spike walked out from the backroom, and into the bar.  There were five more vampires than before, and the counter was crowded with them, talking, drinking either blood or beer, and laughing, so Spike decided to leave.

     Just as he opened the front door to go outside, Bill ran up to him.  "Hey!" 

     "What?" Spike asked quietly, coldly.

     "Here's some blood for the trip." Bill handed Spike three bags of blood.  "And the keys to the motorcycle," he added as he offered Spike the keys.

     "Thanks," Spike said.  He took the keys and blood from Bill.  "I'll make sure to eat these." He put the bags of blood in his coat pocket.  "So, are you going to wish me luck?" He asked Bill.  "I mean, I may need it and all."  Bill shook his head.  "Fine," Spike sighed as he went outside.

     The motorcycle was leaning against the wall next to the door.  Spike walked over to the motorcycle, grinning.  He got on and started it up.  The engine rumbled as he rode it to the edge of the street.

     "Just like riding a bike." He checked for cars in both directions, and when there were none, he rode off into the night.

     Bill watched from the window as Spike disappeared into the distance.  "Good luck," he whispered, and then went back to work.


	4. The City of Angels

Chapter 4: The City of Angels

It took all night for Spike to get where he was going, even if he did have to go over the speed limit sometimes.  So far, he only met two police officers that pulled him over for running the speed limit, and both times, he had snuck away.

"I'm a vampire.  Not a human," he reminded himself, as he felt guilty for sneaking away from the second police officer.  "Vampires don't really need to follow rules set for humans."

Spike finally made it to Los Angeles, though.  He only ate two bags of blood on his trip, and decided after eating his second bag, that he should give the third to Angel.  "Maybe it will clear up all this bitterness between us," he said.  "Besides, it's time for a new start.  I have a soul and he has a soul.  He should be kinder to me this time than the last time we met."

The sun was close to rising, so Spike decided that he should find out where Angel lived.  And quickly.

He tried to remember from the last time he visited Angel.  Of course, that was over two years ago, and he was trying to get back the Gem of Amarra then, so unless something tempted him to find out where Angel was, he was lost.

It was four minutes to dawn.

Spike, even though he had to get help from Angel, he was reluctant to face him again.  Angel might kill him, or just torture him like he did with Angel that one time.

Three minutes.

_Just ask for help, _Spike thought as some sunlight began to creep up on him slowly.  _It wouldn't hurt._

Two minutes.__

_Unless you want to be burned to a crisp, ask for help.  And now._

One minute.  It was too late.

Sunlight hit Spike, causing him to shout.  He stopped his motorcycle in front of a tall building.  Spike didn't even bother to know the name, he just ran inside to get away from the sun.

"Whew," he sighed as he got away from the sunlight.  "That was close." Spike looked around at the building he was in.  It looked like a hotel, from the sight of a front counter, and the way the stairs were made.  He walked down the three steps, and up to the front counter.  "Hello!" He shouted.  "Anybody home?"

"Who's there?" Somebody asked from the stairs.  It sounded like a girl.

Spike turned around, and saw a woman come down the stairs.  She had light brown hair, and glasses on.  

"Who are you?" She asked as she took off her glasses.  "What do you need?"

"Where's Angel?  I need his help," Spike reluctantly asked.

"Angel's not in.  Well, he's with someone.  Talking to someone, actually.  He's talking to an old friend of his.  You can leave a message for him," the woman offered.  "And I can give the message to him."  

"Uh, I don't think so.  I need to speak to him."

"Well, leave a—" 

"In person," he added.  "We're old friends.  We go way back."

"Okay, I'll go get him.  Just wait here, and don't touch anything," she commanded, and walked back up the stairs.

Spike sighed, and leaned on the counter.  The counter was dusty, along with the phone that sat on top of it.  The phone looked like it hasn't been used in years, actually.  Spike walked to the couch, which was in the middle of the lobby, and sat down.  

"How long does it take to get him?" Spike said out loud.  _True, a minute or two has passed by, but I really have to see him, _Spike thought as he looked at the clock on the wall.  He stood up impatiently.  He couldn't wait anymore, he _had _to see Angel.  _Now._

He made his way to the stairs just when two voices floated down.  "What's his name?" That sounded like Angel.

"I don't know.  I forgot to ask him," the woman answered.

"Well, Fred, how am I supposed to know who he is if you didn't ask for his name?" Angel asked.

"I don't—" She stopped talking as she reached the balcony overhead, looking down at the lobby.  "There he is," she pointed to Spike, who was looking around impatiently.  

"That's Spike," Angel said harshly.

"You know him?" Fred asked curiously, looking at Angel.

"Yeah, it's a long story," he added as he made his way down the staircase.

Fred stared after Angel in disbelief.  "Does that mean that he's a vampire too?" Fred asked Angel, but he was too far down the staircase to answer her.

"Spike," Angel greeted in his own way as he reached the lobby.  "Nice to see you here."

"Hey, Angel.  Glad to see you, too." Spike looked around at the lobby, not wanting to stare Angel in the eye.  "Um…just so you won't torture me or anything, I have not come to harass you, nor have I killed Buffy." Spike sighed, not wanting to say the words.  "I need your help."

"You…?" Angel started laughing.  He managed to stop laughing in order to ask the question, "You need my help?" A small grin spread across his face.

Spike stared at Angel.  "Yeah, I do." 

"Where was the Spike that I used to know?  That Spike used to do stuff without anyone's help," Angel teased.

"Things changed.  I—I changed.  I'm not the same.  I'm not Spike the killer, I'm Spike the…the…well, I don't know who I am now, but I didn't come here to kill anyone.  I gave up my killing ways a long time ago," Spike explained desperately.  "I just need some help."

"Okay," Angel reluctantly gave in, "what do you need help on?"

"That's the problem.  Ever since I got it back, I didn't know who I was anymore.  All I want to know is if I'll loose it."

"Loose what?" Angel asked, trying to keep up with the ramblings of Spike.

"My soul," Spike said quietly, but with Angel's super sharp hearing, he heard it loud and clear.

"You got your soul back?" 

Spike grinned.  "Yeah, where have you been?"

"How…?" Angel asked, disbelieving of what he was hearing.

"Went through trials, tests, to get it back.  Nearly died in the end, but I came out as the victor," Spike said painfully.  "She made me get my soul back.  Ever since she told me that I couldn't love her because I was a vampire.  And then she told me that she was just using me.  I was so angry afterwards that…" he gulped, "I hurt her."

"Who?"

"Buffy…"

"Okay, lets take a step back.  What do you need help on?" Angel asked.  He could smell Buffy's scent all over Spike, and somehow, deep down, he knew that Spike loved her.

"Okay, first of all, I need to know this demon that gave me back my soul.  If I'll loose it, and second of all…" Spike spotted a long, sharp sword lying on the floor, "can I have that sword?" He pointed to it.  It has been a long time since he ever held a sword in his hand, and just the touch of a steel blade made him feel strong.

"Sure."

Spike grinned, and made his way to pick up the sword when Angel stopped him.  "I meant sure for the first thing.  That sword is mine." And then he pushed Spike back.

"Hey!"

Angel picked up the sword and swung it around a couple of times.  "Maybe if you're good, then you can have it." Angel walked to the weapons cabinet, opened it, and put the sword back in it's right full place.  Then he closed the doors, locked it up, and turned to face Spike.  "But for now, it's mine."

"But I am redeemed," Spike defended his right to have the sword.  _Just because I like swords, doesn't mean that I'll go ballistic on everyone and kill them, _Spike thought.  

"But is that what you're soul is really telling you?  Maybe you're redeemed, for a vampire, but you're soul isn't.  Maybe your soul isn't telling you right from wrong.  Maybe it's just using you so you're good side can win out, but in mind and heart, you're not redeemed."

Spike blinked.  "Okay…" 

"A soul is something that is a part of you.  When it's taken away, you're just a vampire, or a demon.  And, for us, you may seem redeemed, but in your soul, you're not.  To another person, you're just a guy, but to a Slayer, you're a vampire who's desperate to have her."  

"Well, part of that was true.  But I've given up on her," Spike said.

"And in truth, you can't love without a soul.  You can't feel.  You can't cry, feel excited about something—without a soul, you're just a vampire who loves someone just to taste her blood.  A soul is everything."

It was quiet for a moment.  Spike thought about what Angel just said.  _You can't love without a soul.  You can't feel.  _"I bloody well felt before I got my soul back," Spike whispered to no one in particular.

"Or is what you felt just a blood lust?" Angel whispered back. 

"Hey, guys," Fred called from the balcony overhead.  Angel looked up to her.

"What?" He responded.

"We're going to try the spell again, so if the lights go out…" Fred shrugged.  "If the lights go out, get over it." And she walked away.

"What spell?" Spike asked Angel.

"Oh, nothing, Willow's just doing something so in case during a thunderstorm, the lights won't go out."

Spike felt a jolt of shock go through him.  "Wait, Red's here?"

"Yeah," Angel said slowly.  He could sense that Spike was scared.  "Why?"

"If she finds out I'm here, she'll tell Buffy.  I can't risk that.  Think I can hide out in the basement till she leaves?" Spike asked frantically.

"Sure, the basement's always open," Angel offered.  "Except you might want to watch out for the mutant mice," Angel added as a joke, and grinned.

Spike sneered and walked down the steps of the basement.  It was dark.  He could hear mice scurrying in every corner of the basement, and he could smell the blood that fell on the floor a thousand times over.  The smell of blood alone made him hungry, and he remembered the extra blood bag he had.  He took it out, and ripped it open with his teeth.  Since he didn't have his mug with him, he just drank straight from the bag instead.  Once he finished, he threw the bag onto the floor.

He sighed, and decided to look around the basement.  Even though he was good at seeing in the dark, he still needed light.  He felt the wall for a light switch, found one, and turned it on.  The light bulb flickered, and then light flooded the basement.  There was a cage filling one side of the basement, and a small cot was in it.  Off to the left was a long hallway.  Spike followed it and discovered that the hallway led to the sewers.

"Perfect," he said, his voice echoing in the dark, long tunnels of the sewer.  He went back to the basement, and decided to look for some more blood, maybe pig or rat's blood.

As he searched through the boxes stacked on top of each other, the light flickered again.  Spike looked up to the lone light bulb, and hoped that it wouldn't give out, but it did.  Darkness filled the room.

"Great," Spike said sarcastically.  "Just great." In frustration, he kicked the boxes to the floor.

"Hey, Spike!" Angel called down to him.

"Yeah?" Spike responded.

"Willow's going to be working on the spell for a while."

"Did she cause the lights to go out?" Spike asked.

"Yeah." Spike sighed. Angel heard him.  "In the meantime, you might want to get rested up for tonight."

"Why?  What are we going to be doing tonight?" Spike asked curiously.

"We're going downtown."


	5. Downtown at Night

_A/N: A great big thanks to Mita427, the first to review this story! (Besides me, but I think reviewing myself on a story doesn't really count, does it?)  Anyway, more reviews are always welcome!  So, here's chapter 5!_

Chapter 5: Downtown at Night

     He appeared in the woods again.  It was darker than last time; black clouds covered the sky, sending prickling rain in his direction.  Wind came at him from all sides, blowing his leather duster up behind him, making him look, from distance, a superhero standing in the rain.  But he wasn't.  He was just a vampire.       

     Thunder rolled in, lighting up the dark sky.  The rain pounded harder against his skin, and it felt like it suddenly turned to hail.  The wind whistled louder in his ear.  It was getting dangerous.

_     Suddenly lightning struck down a lone tree in the middle of the vast land.  Fire started crackling, and flames leapt up into the air.  The fire started to creep along the ground to him, twisting and turning like a snake._

     It was very real.

_     And it was very dangerous._

     Spike tried to turn and run the other direction away from the fire, but couldn't bring himself to do that. 

_It was like a magnetic force held him there.  Holding him there at least until the fire reached him._

_     In the distance, Spike could hear whispering, though it was very soft.  He closed his eyes, and listened harder.   _

_     He could make out at least one sentence._

_"Let him burn.  Let him die slowly, because, you see—"_

     The voice got louder, and louder, until it was like someone was in front of him, talking.

     "Only with a soul, you can feel."

_     Spike opened his eyes instantly, and a man, a preacher, appeared in front of him.  _

     "With a soul, you can beat me."

_     "Get out of my dream," Spike commanded, even though he hardly knew whom the guy was.  He felt like letting go, and just attacking the man, with or without super vampire strength.  "I don't tolerate people visiting my dreams.  Had a nasty run in with the First yesterday."  _

_     "Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that.  I'm like your guardian angel, only I can do this—" He disappeared, and reappeared next to Spike—"And I can bet the First can't do that, can it?"_

_     "Who are you?"_

_     "They call me Caleb," he introduced himself, and walked away from Spike.  "He calls me Caleb." He pointed to the sky.  "But the First calls me Master, because I do work for it.  I do the dirty deeds to the wicked girls, I do the good deeds to the good girls, but all the deeds wind up the same, don't they?" Caleb sighed.  "Tragic, really.  Here you are, one minute away from being set on fire."  _

_     Spike, who was too lost in Caleb's little speech, looked down at the ground, the fire close to his feet.  He jumped back, a little shocked, and reminded himself that he was a vampire._

_     "But only I can stop it," Caleb announced, and snapped his fingers._

     Suddenly, everything froze.  The rain froze, the fire froze—it was like time itself had been frozen.

_     "How'd you do that?" Spike asked, glaring at Caleb.  He felt that he just couldn't trust this preacher guy._

_     "The First gives me it, and I use it.  I can do anything with help from the First.  I can stop time, too.  I can convince you to do terrible things.  I can convince you to kill her…" Caleb looked at Spike with eyes that were hypnotic.  _

_     Spike brushed off the feeling of hypnotic eyes and shook his head.  "I can't kill Buffy.  I—"_

_     "You love her," Caleb finished for him.  "But maybe that love isn't enough.  And maybe power alone isn't enough to beat me, because in the end, you'll wind up the same: alone and betrayed by Buffy.  Sometimes loving someone isn't enough alone.  You have to love from your soul, and only then, you will find the power inside you." Caleb looked Spike right in the eye.  "The power to sacrifice your life for those you love."  _

     Spike woke up.  He was still in the basement; the lights still out.     

     He decided to follow Angel's advice and catch a few winks before heading out that night, but those few winks turned into a nightmare, and with that Caleb guy in his dream, that scared him more than ever.  He seemed much more evil than the First, and apparently, Spike guessed, had a thing against girls.

     Spike sat up in bed, resting his feet on the stone floor.  He rested his head in his hands, thinking.  What was it about power and love that Caleb said?

     He couldn't think, though.  Everything that came into his mind got lost in a whirlpool of deserted hopes and dreams he didn't even know he had.

     Spike sighed, and stood up.  Since there was no way to tell if it was sundown or not, he decided to check.  _And maybe I'll have some time to discuss that dream with…someone._

     He walked up the stairs to the lobby.  The lobby was completely deserted.  No sign of Angel or anyone else.  He looked outside.  It was dark.  Night had fallen.

     Someone walked in just at that time.  It was a boy, _well, duh, _Spike thought.  And it seemed…it seemed like the boy had the same scent as Angel.  

     "Hey," the boy said casually to Spike, like a person says hi to their friend at first sight.  Then the boy realized whom he said 'hey' to, and reacted instantly, grabbing a stake from underneath the jacket he wore.  "Who are you?" The boy questioned, holding the stake up in a throwing position.

     "That's the question I should be asking you," Spike said, looking at the boy.  "You a similar scent to Angel," Spike pointed out.  

     "How do you know my father?" The boy asked sternly.

     "Your father?" Spike chuckled.  "Wow, life in L.A. just gets weirder, although Sunnydale is the center of weirdness…"   

     "Who are you?" The boy asked again, this time with a tone more dangerous than last time.  He flicked his stake, like he just couldn't wait to throw it at Spike's heart.

     "I'm…Spike.  William the Bloody.  Doubt if you've heard of me, actually.  Angel doesn't really like mentioning me to strangers, or, to his son…" Spike sighed as the boy's tension loosened, "And, what are you doing walking around with a stake?  What if an old, innocent man comes up behind you and you stake him?"

     The boy grinned, but that grin vanished instantly.  "I'm careful.  Unlike you, I can sense who's a vampire and who's not." Then, he added, "My name's Connor." He lowered his weapon and put it away.

     "Connor?" Spike stifled a laugh.  "Good name…Connor…doesn't really have a ring to it, does it though?"  

     Connor shrugged.   "It's good enough for me."

     "I see you met my son," Angel said bitterly, coming down the stairs.  "What ever you do, don't trust him all that much.  He may look harmless, but he's very strong," Angel warned Spike.

     "Like father, like son," Spike muttered.  "So, why are we going downtown?"

     "There's this demon, in the bad part of town.  He's very useful if you want to know about your soul.  The first time I arrived in L.A. I went to visit him.  Although he can get short-tempered if you ask him a lot of questions," Angel explained as he took a weapon out from the weapon case.  "Also, there's this rogue demon on the loose.  I'm thinking that we can kill it before it can kill anyone."

     "All right with me, but let me get the pointy sword," Spike said eagerly.

     Angel grinned.  "Okay, just don't accidentally kill anyone with it." He threw the sword to Spike, who caught it carefully.

     "What about the boy?" Spike motioned to Connor.

     "I can come along with you, just in case you guys get too scared to handle the demon," Connor said with a tone that was positive and ready for action.   

     "Actually, Connor, I want you to stay here," Angel said slowly.  "This rogue demon is too dangerous for us to even handle, and I don't want you getting killed."

     "Fine," Connor muttered under his breath before heading up the stairs. 

     "I think he should've come with us.  You know, for back-up."

     Angel ignored Spike, and grabbed another sword, bigger and sharper than the one that Spike had.  "Let's go," he commanded, and headed out the door, Spike following.  

     Somehow, even Spike couldn't think it was possible: Los Angeles seemed scarier at night than Sunnydale ever did.  There weren't a lot of people out on the streets, but there were a lot of vampires roaming around.  Along the way to downtown, they ran into a group of ten vampires.  Angel took out at least seven, while Spike struggled with three.  One pinned him against the brick wall, and another one prepared to strike at him, but Spike came out as the victor.  He cut off their heads with the sword he had, and the two turned to dust, while the third one knocked him to the ground.

     "Are you okay?" Angel asked as Spike cut off the head of the third one.

     "Yeah," Spike replied, as he got up from the ground, "just great." His left hand hurt, and he remembered the incident at the bar a day back.  

     They walked two blocks more before they finally stopped outside a building.

     "Are we here?" Spike asked.  They had walked the two blocks uphill, and by the second block, his feet started hurting.

     "Yeah," Angel responded.  

     The building looked like it was abandoned, and it had an eerie sense to it, like it was haunted.

     "Well, come on." Angel took the first step, and walked inside the building.

     Spike sighed, and followed Angel.

     It was even scarier inside than outside.  Darkness filled every corner of one small room they were in, and Spike, even though he was a vampire, was scared.  "Angel…" Spike said uncertainly.

     Either Angel didn't respond, or because he disappeared, Spike figured that it was the latter, because even with his night vision vampires always had he couldn't see the outline of Angel in the dark.  

     Spike clutched his sword he carried, preparing to strike at anything that jumped out at him.

     "Hey!"

     Someone grabbed his shoulder, and Spike turned around, swinging the sword at the person.

     "Spike, it's me," said Angel.  "I found the room."       

     "What room?"

     "The room where the demon is."

     "The rogue demon or…?"

     "The other one."

     "Oh."

     It was completely dark, except for a little bit of light coming from the back room.  "Do I need to pay him?" Spike asked.

     "No, although if you want to get killed, give me the sword," Angel offered.  Spike handed Angel his sword, and walked into the back room.

     The door behind him closed with a bang, but Spike was too focused on the demon that was in front of him.  Immediately, Spike knew that something was wrong.  Something was not right.

     "Who are you?" Spike asked the demon.

     The demon warily eyed Spike.  "Do not ask who I am, for who you are is far more important."       

     "Right…" Spike said unsurely.  He spotted some stuff for spells that lay in front of the demon, and a book that was opened to a certain page.  A long, narrow knife rested off to the side of the book.  "You know, I think I hear Angel calling me.  I better go…" He turned for the door but there was no door.  In fact, there was no doorway at all, just another blank wall.  "What happened to the door?" He wondered, staring absent-mindedly at the blank wall.

     "It's a simple door removing spell.  Just do that and this and no more door," the demon answered.

     He faced the demon, and asked forcefully, "Who are you?"

     The demon stood up, still facing Spike, and answered in a thunderous voice, "I am Trodigur."

     "Trodigur?" Spike nodded, and acknowledged him.  "I know your kind.  You guys steal souls…" he trailed off as he remembered the rest.

     Trodigur nodded and finished Spike's sentence.  "Yes, I steal souls away from vampires who carry them.  Then I send the vampire to live an eternity in Hell.  Now," he said, looking Spike straight in the eye, "come to me."

     Spike moved forward, even though he didn't know why.  It was like hypnotic eyes were staring at him, making him obey every whim that Trodigur ordered.  Spike broke eye contact with Trodigur, but no matter what…_this puppet's strings are broken.  I don't take orders from anyone anymore.  _It was like when the First made him murder those people.  He was under that same haunted feeling again.  The feeling that you can't do anything except carry out whatever someone tells you do, even if it's something dangerous.  Before he knew it, Spike was standing in front of Trodigur.  They were at least an arm's length away.  _Don't take my soul away, _Spike thought desperately, _not now…_

     Trodigur raised his arm, planting it on Spike's chest, right where his heart would have been if he were still human.  Trodigur started chanting something.  Spike struggled to move, but something was keeping him there.  It was like both his feet were glued to the floor.

     Trodigur finished chanting.  Spike sighed, thinking that the spell didn't work, and that his soul was still intact.  But he was wrong.  Trodigur's eyes were gleaming with triumph, meaning that he succeeded in the spell.  Slowly, even Spike could feel that his soul was slowly being sucked away into nothingness.  It wouldn't be a matter of time before Trodigur succeeded in the final task…sending Spike to live eternity in Hell.

To Be Continued… 


	6. A Warrior's Fate

A/N: And still…thanks to Mita for reviewing my story…all those other people who read and don't review are evil!  J/K J

Chapter 6: A Warrior's Fate

__

     As his soul slowly faded, every memory of the past year faded along with it.  The time when he saw Buffy again, after he regained his soul, slowly disappeared.  The time when he found out the First was using him to kill again…slowly fading.  With his last ounce of strength left, Spike called out, "Angel!" He hoped Angel, somewhere on the other side of the wall, would hear him, and if he did…

     Angel was waiting patiently for Spike to finish talking to the demon…if he was talking.  He swung his sword around, accidentally knocking an empty flower vase to the floor.  Sighing, he stopped swinging his sword and looked to the door.  At first, he thought about barging in to ask what was taking so long, but then again…suddenly, he heard something.  Someone: calling out his name.  It sounded faint at first, like it was an echo in a cave, but slowly gained volume.  He knew the voice…

     "Spike!" Angel called out and rushed to the door.  It was locked.

     Trodigur lowered his hand.  "Yes…another soul…" He closed his eyes.  "Yes…"

     Spike was released from the mind-control Trodigur had set on him.  He didn't dare move, though.  Without his soul, he felt weak.  It was like a part of him was missing.

     Trodigur hummed a bit, then said, "Now for the final spell…"

     _Goodbye, Buffy…_Spike thought one last time.

     With all his might, Angel kicked the door.  This time it opened, revealing Trodigur, already chanting the final spell.  "Spike!" Angel called to the vampire.  Spotting Trodigur, he suddenly knew what to do.  He threw his sword right at Trodigur, hitting him in the shoulder. 

     Trodigur stopped chanting and looked up.  He spotted Angel.  "How dare you interrupt me?" He shouted.

     Spike realized that someone had barged in and thrown a sword at Trodigur.  He turned around.  "Angel?"

     "Here." Angel handed Spike his sword.  Spike took back his sword, backing away from the demon.

     Trodigur muttered something under his breath and the sword flew out of his shoulder.  It spun around, pointing straight at Angel.  "Goodbye," Trodigur said, and grinned evilly.  The sword, as if on demand, flew right at Angel's un-beating heart, but Angel was quicker.  He ducked, just in time for the sword to fly over his head and into the wall behind him.  

     Angel straightened and looked at Trodigur.  A smile slowly formed on Angel's face, almost like a smirk.  "You lost your sword," he commented.     

     "I have many other tricks up my sleeve," Trodigur answered intensely.  He shouted something in Latin and Angel cringed as his eyes turned yellow, as two upper fangs appeared.  He looked at Trodigur steadily, as if waiting for something.  

     "Kill the vampire, Angelus," Trodigur ordered.  Angelus grinned, eyes looking over to the vampire in the corner.  Spike saw Angel's eyes.  They were gleaming brightly.

     "Ah, William the Bloody.  We meet again," Angelus said, in a threatening voice.

     Spike held his sword at ready.  He was being torn apart…his grand-sire finally turning against him…_wait, _Spike thought as he looked at Angelus, _he was always against me.  _"Angel," he said cautiously.  "You don't want to do this."

     "Of course I do," Angel said brightly.  "You've always been avoiding fights against me.  You're afraid to lose?"

     Spike hesitated before answering.  "No," he lied.  He squared his shoulders, looking ready for a fight. 

     Angelus looked deeper into Spike's eyes, reading them.  Then, he smirked.  "You're afraid.  You're afraid I'm going to beat you," he acknowledged with laughter.  He continued when Spike didn't reply.  "You're afraid you're going to loose, you're afraid that I'll gain the upper hand and stake you, is that it?"

     Spike shook his head.  "No…"

     Angelus saw defeat coming to Spike, and he grinned evilly.  "You're afraid to fight," Angelus began, grabbing his sword and ripping it out from the wall, "because of your soul."  He faced Spike, ready for the final showdown, ready for it to begin.       

     _You're afraid to fight because of your soul… _Angelus' words ran through Spike's mind, his confidence slowly fading.  _Yeah, post-soul Spike wouldn't have been afraid to fight, but I'm not post-bloody soul Spike anymore, am I?  I'm now pre-soul Spike, who's always ready for a fight…       _

Angelus' smirk decreased slightly as he saw a grin form on Spike's face.  "What?" He asked curiously.  "I'm right, aren't I?  With a soul, you can't find the courage to fight me."

     "No, I think you're wrong.  You see, only post-soul Spike wouldn't have found the courage to fight you, but I'm not post-soul Spike anymore, am I?  I'm pre-soul Spike, ready to fight you any day." Spike's eyes turned yellow as two upper fangs appeared.  "I'm ready to fight you any day," he commented.

     Angelus' eyes gleamed brightly as he grinned.  "Let's begin, shall we then?"

     Two vampires evenly matched with their swords and super vampire strength.  Spike was almost terrified at the thought of who would win.  If Angelus won, then Spike would be dust, literally.  If Spike won, however, then…_all I have to do is hold my ground long enough to at least knock Angel unconscious.  Then I can drag him back to the hotel…_there was a window located next to the air furnace.  It was still night, but the clock was ticking away to 6 o'clock.  The longer Spike stalled, the closer it got to sunrise.  _It's now or never, _Spike thought.  

     "Ready to begin?" Angelus asked as heard Spike's hesitated sigh.

     "Yeah," Spike replied.  He looked Angelus in the eye.  "I'm ready when you are."

     Trodigur looked on at the scene with a devilish grin, eager to see who began the fight, eager to see who was the winner in the outcome.

     A minute ticked away as Angelus and Spike waited for the other to make the first move.  No one did.  Angelus frowned, and then threw the sword at Spike's deadened heart.  Spike raised his sword instantly and knocked the flying sword aside.

     "No swords," Angelus ordered.  His voice was filled with fear…fear and confidence both.  Spike grinned at the thought of Angelus being scared.  "A sword would make an easy stake for the both of us."  Even still, Angelus was lying through clenched teeth.  Spike didn't know, though, and threw his sword to the side, which landed right next to Angelus' fallen sword.

     "Fine.  We'll just roll with the kicks and punches then, will we?" Spike asked.  He knew that with vampires, it was polite to fight with what the other vampire ordered.  If Angelus ordered that they fought with swords, or maces, Spike would agree.  It would be a fair fight between the two vampires.  Even still, Angelus didn't really follow the rules in a vampire fight.

     "So let's begin," Angelus offered the chance for Spike to make the first move, but when he didn't…Angelus leaped at Spike, knocking the younger vampire to the ground.  Spike was dazed at first, but slowly got up.  Angelus, sensing his chance to get his weapon back, dived for his sword.  Spike saw Angelus, and reached for his sword.  However, he was one second too late.

     "What's the matter?  You lost your sword?" Angelus grinned, looking down at Spike.  He was holding Spike's sword, along with his own.

     "No…" Spike began, knowing what Angelus was going to do.

     With his vampire strength, Angelus broke Spike's sword in two, heaving both pieces to the side.  "Boy, that was weak metal.  I'm kind of surprised I carried that with my other weapons in the first place."

     Trodigur looked on with a grin plastered on his face.  Eagerness filled his eyes as he looked to see if Angelus would kill Spike.

     "I'm kind of sad to see you go," Angelus continued.  Spike raised an eyebrow, looking at Angelus.  "Wait a minute…no, I'm not." A grin formed on Angelus' face as he raised his sword, the tip pricking the skin above Spike's deadened heart.  "What're you gonna do?  Hmm?  Are you just going to stand there, under the stake, like you did so many times in the past?  Are you going to be abused by me?" Angelus laughed.  "Of course you will.  You've never had the courage to stop me."

     _It's true, _Spike thought, closing his eyes.  _I've never had the courage to stop him in the past…_Spike tried with all his might to stop thinking about the past.  The blood, the screams…he was still haunted by the torture from his grand-sire…from Angelus.  Almost everyday Spike and Angelus got into arguments, and after every argument, Spike would be on the ground with blood on his face.  Not the blood from a person, however, but his blood.  There were a couple of times Angelus would point a stake at Spike's deadened heart, threatening to stake him.  The past was a dark time for Spike.  He hoped he never had to go there again.  

     Angelus' laughter brought Spike back to the present.  He opened his eyes to the sword, which was still pricking his skin.  "No matter what you do, no matter if you do stake me, because swords won't work when staking a vampire," Spike muttered, even though he knew Angelus could hear every word being spoken.

     "No, it won't work, boy.  But I know something that will…" Angelus got in batting formation with the sword being the bat.  Spike breathed in sharply as he knew what was going to happen.  "Good-bye, Spike," Angelus said, and swung the sword at Spike.  

     _Buffy was sitting on a park bench in daylight.  Sunlight filled every detail of her face, showing the colors of her eyes, glinted off her necklace she wore.  Spike, unknown to Buffy, walked up to the Slayer and sat down next to her._

_     Buffy looked to Spike, surprised to see him out in the sun without bursting into flames.  "Spike?  What are you doing here?" It was more of a statement than a question._

_     Spike looked up to the sun and squinted.  A smile slowly grew on his face.  He looked back to Buffy.  "Guess I'm a human now, love.  Not a creature of the night anymore."_

_     Buffy shook her head, not believing that Spike was human.  "How?  Why?"_

_     Spike shrugged and looked to the sky.  "God, I didn't know how much I missed being human 'till now…" he trailed off as he looked into Buffy's eyes.  "I missed you."_

_     "No, you didn't," Buffy stated as she stood up.  "You didn't even care about me, or even wondered about me.  I was worried to death about you, and all you can say is that you missed me?"_

_     "Buffy…" Spike began, but he never got to finish as Buffy cut him off._

_     "No…don't…this thing we have…it's not real.  You're not real.  You were meant to be a creature of the night, but here you are…in the sun," Buffy said.  Overhead, black clouds were beginning to drift together._

_     "I love you," Spike said quietly.  "And I did worry about you…all the time."_

_     Buffy turned to face Spike, anger clear in her eyes.  "You can't love…without a soul…"_

_     Spike frowned, then stood up, offended by what Buffy said.  "I have a soul.  I can talk; breath, sleep, and I can definitely love, too.  Buffy…" Spike neared her, unaware that it started to rain.  Lightning painted the dark, gray sky.  "Buffy, I love you."_

_     "Not anymore you don't.  You think you can win me back just by saying 'I love you'?  Let me tell you something, Spike, it doesn't work.  No matter what, you'll always be a vampire to me.  I'll always remember that incident two years ago when you tried to…when you tried to hurt me." Buffy sighed, and then continued. "You can't love without a soul.  I'm sorry, Spike," Buffy added as she walked away, and left Spike behind._

     Spike stood there in the rain, both offended and stunned that Buffy left him.  Unbeknownst to Spike, tears streamed down his face.  

     Spike had that dream often.  Actually, it was more often than just a few times.  He never figured out what it meant, and had been trying for more than a month to figure it out.  As Angelus was about to cut off his head now, his last thought was directed to his dream.  Spike closed his eyes as Angelus swung the sword at him.  He waited for the moment…the moment when all he had worked for to turn to dust, the moment for who he was to turn to dust.  

     When Spike didn't feel the sword's impact, he cautiously opened his eyes.  The sword was stopped an inch from Spike's neck.  If it didn't stop, then…Spike didn't even want to think about the thought.  He slowly looked to Angelus, contradiction lined on every detail of his face.  He dropped the sword.  The clatter of metal to the surface of the floor rang throughout the room as Angelus dropped to his knees.  His eyes were directed to the doorway.  Spike turned around, and saw Gunn, Fred, Wesley, and Lorne standing in the doorway.  He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the gang.  Wesley held a book open, chanting something in what sounded like Latin.  Gunn held a sword at ready while Fred held a crossbow, and Lorne held a sword, too.  The Trodigur demon laid on the floor off to the side, still, and a big gash in the middle.  It was dead.       

     "Spike, are you all right?" Fred asked the vampire.  

     Spike remembered seeing the woman…the same woman from the hotel, although Spike never got her name.  "Yeah, I'm fine," he responded weakly.  "Who're they?" He asked as he saw Gunn, Lorne, and Wesley.

     "Well," Fred began, drawing in breath.  "This is Gunn," she introduced, pointing to the black man next to her.  "This is Lorne," she introduced the green demon.  "And the guy chanting Latin is Wesley.  And I'm Fred," she added as she gave a smile to Spike.

     Gunn and Lorne each acknowledged the introduction with a nod.

     "Okay, now that I'm all caught up, what's Wesley doing?"

     "Oh, well, after Gunn and Lorne killed the demon, Wesley grabbed the book, and began the spell for restoring Angelus' soul," Fred explained.  "Are you sure you're all right?" She asked again.

     "Well, except a missing soul, yeah, I'm just peachy."  

     Wesley finished chanting as he closed the book shut.  "There, his soul is restored," he said, glancing at Spike.

     "I thought to do spells you needed ingredients of some sort," Gunn said.

     "Well, Trodigurs' are known for doing spells without any ingredients required.  They like to be quick when doing spells, so they've come up with a system of spells carrying all the magic of all the ingredients that were ever needed, instead of just going out and getting all of them," Wesley explained hastily.  "Okay, we need to transport Angel back to the hotel.  The spell should have knocked him out for at least a couple of hours."

     They towed Angel into the van parked outside.  Wesley got into the driver's seat, while Gunn got into the passenger side.  Spike, Fred, and Lorne all were in the middle row, looking uncomfortable with sitting next to each other, while Angel was laid out in the last row.  It only took them five minutes to get back to the hotel, with barely two minutes left before sunrise.

     Back at the hotel, both Spike and Gunn carried Angel back to his room.

     "I can't believe you dropped him on his head," Spike said to Gunn as they both walked back downstairs.  They had a hard time carrying Angel up the stairs, with Gunn dropping Angel on the stairs.

     "He was only a couple inches up from the ground.  Don't you start talking about concussions and brain damage," Gunn stated defensively.

     "Oh, I'm not worried about that," Spike said, and grinned.  "I just think he might get a bump on the back of his head."

     "See?  Nothing wrong," Gunn said.

     "Then, when he wakes up, think of who he'll be on the hunt for," Spike said jokingly.

     Gunn paused in mid-walk, thinking of what Spike said.  "Can't happen," he muttered as he continued walking. 

     "Spike, can you come here, please?" Wesley called from his office.  

     Spike shrugged, and walked into the office.  "Yeah, what's up?" He asked as he saw a million papers spread out on the desk.

     "Now, before you can get your soul back, I need you to know something important," Wesley said as he looked down at a book.

     "Okay," Spike agreed, sitting down.

     "I've been doing some reading, and I came across this one prophecy, which mentioned of a warrior's fate.  Now, I know Angel is the champion, as stated in one prophecy, so he can't be the warrior, and the only vampire with a soul, besides Angel, is you," Wesley explained, looking back up at Spike.  The vampire raised an eyebrow.  "Once I do the spell, of course," he added hurriedly.

     "Okay, read this prophecy to me," Spike demanded.  He strongly doubted that he was the warrior, but if he was, then…_better to know now than never, _Spike thought.

     Wesley cleared his throat.  "By the way, it's in poem form," he added before starting.  This caused a groan from Spike, who, after his own poems in the past, didn't want to hear or read poems.

     "Let's just hope this poem is good," Spike muttered.

     Wesley ignored him, and began reading:

The Warrior's Fate— 

****

     "God, this prophecy even has a title?" Spike said.  Wesley glared at him before continuing.

_The Warrior's Fate, a time when all that he has worked for comes together,_

_Time will show him the path to redemption, courage, love, and patience will be learnt._

_A soul's journey through death half begun when he will finish forever,_

_A pure soul finally redeemed, he will pay the price of all hurt._

     Wesley finished, looking up at Spike, who had a puzzled look etched on his face.

     "What does that mean?" Spike asked as he stood up.

     "Well, I think it means that the warrior—you—will sacrifice your life for someone—or is it another life?  Anyway, it's like a path for redemption.  '_A soul's journey through death half begun when he will finish forever.'  _I don't exactly know what that means, but I think it means that he will die, and stay dead forever.  '_A pure soul finally redeemed, he will pay the price of all hurt.'  _There could be a mistranslation, but it means that the warrior, a pure soul, will receive the gift of humanity after all the trials he has gone thought—love, courage, patience.  But how could that be when he will be dead forever?"

     Spike left Wesley talking to himself absent-mindedly.  "Bloody hell," Spike muttered as he walked behind the counter to the fridge.  "That guy works too hard." He got a blood bag out, tearing it open with his teeth.  He drank it down quickly, not noticing the bad aftertaste it carried.  Suddenly, he blacked out.

A/N: Okay, hope you liked the chapter.  I'll work on getting the next chapter up as soon as I can, but with high school starting tomorrow (Sept 3)…well, I'll try…and remember for all those who read and don't review: evil!

Oh, yeah, the poem, a warrior's fate, is my poem…I wrote it…

 

      


	7. Down and Out

Disclaimer: You know the drill: I don't own them, Joss Whedon does. All I do is put them in dangerous, life-threatening situations, kill them off, and bring them back—oh, wait, that's Joss's idea too…well, all I do own the Paranoxa demon in this chapter. He's mine and will kill anyone who doesn't review…

A/N: I know! I know! I haven't updated ever since last year early September! It's just, lots of things changed so rapidly before my eyes. Me starting high school for one. Mom now being a long term "substitute" (the quotes-the quotes! She is not a sub anymore-she's been teaching all year!) and then me and my two new brothers with their whiskers, tail, paws, pointy ears, and catching rats and lizards every where I turn (okay, so my two new "brothers" are two new kittens…but they're brothers. They had a sister too.) That's enough from my mid-life crisis (as to quote Richie from Highlander "do Immortals have mid-life crisis?" And then to quote from Warren, "We're your arch-nemesises's." (Don't care if it's spelled wrong.) Hey! This is a long A/N, isn't it? Well, again, sorry a million times. And remember: if you don't review, my Paranoxa demon will eat you! That, and I won't give you any delicious cookies I am making right now. Oh yeah, sentences underlined means thoughts.

Chapter 7: Down and Out

"What happened?" Angel asked, a bit worried. He had just woken up from his two hours of unconsciousness, and found out that Spike was unconscious. Now Gunn, Angel, Lorne, and Fred were gathered in Wesley's office, looking anxiously at the ex-Watcher for an explanation of some sort.

Wesley sighed, looking at the worried faces of the team. "Well, it's possible that the blood that Spike drank was poisonous, and, as a result from the poison, he fell unconscious."

"He is okay, though, is he?" Fred asked with a calm voice. She tried hard not to show that she was worried. "The poisonous isn't serious."

"I analyzed the leftover blood, and if my calculations are correct, whoever put the poison in the blood, put a large amount in there. The longer Spike is unconscious, the closer he comes to dying."

Angel, who was fiddling around with a piece of paper, looked up at Wesley. The vampire's eyes turned a darker shade of brown. "What do you mean?"

"This poison is a special type of poison that does serious harm to vampires who drink it. I haven't yet figured out what damage it does to the vampire that drinks it, but I do know that if we don't get the antidote soon, he'll die," Wesley explained thoroughly.

"Where do we get the antidote?" Gunn asked.

"I've been doing some research, and it seems the antidote is the blood of a demon."

"Which demon?" Angel demanded instantly.

Gunn looked at Angel weirdly. "Why are you so worried about Spike? Last time I heard, you hated him."

Angel glared at Gunn, reluctant to answer the question. "That was the old Spike I hated. This is the new Spike…the Spike with a soul. He should be forgiven for his past mistakes, just like I was forgiven when I met Buffy."

"Vampires can't be forgiven. They're vampires…they're demons…just because one went off and got a soul doesn't mean that he's forgiven right away. He has to suffer with the guilt first," Gunn replied.

"He has suffered…enough for me to know that he's begging for forgiveness, yet he hasn't had any from his friends," Angel snapped.

"And how do you know that he suffered long enough with his guilt?" Gunn asked with a challenging tone.

"Because…" Angel sighed. "Because I saw it in his eyes…"

Wesley coughed on purpose, shooting both Angel and Gunn a glare. "Forgive me for intruding on your conversation, but may we please get on with the other conversation. The important one…"

Gunn looked from Angel to Wesley and then to Fred. "I'm outta here," he said harshly, and left the room.

Fred looked to Wesley first and then to Gunn, who was already ascending the stairs. "Sorry," she muttered, making her way out of the room. She closed the door behind her, hearing Wesley start the conversation again. With a sigh, she desperately wished Gunn hadn't exited the room…she wanted to know if Spike would be all right.

"Gunn, wait!" she shouted urgently, running up the stairs after him.

With an exasperated sigh, Gunn immediately stopped walking. With his back to her, he said softly, "Why do you care about him so much?"

Confusion fell upon Fred's face as she shook her head. "I don't know what you mean…"

"Of course you know what I mean!" Gunn nearly shouted. He turned around, looking Fred in the eye. "Just tell me the truth…"

Fred looked to the ground. "Charles…"

"No," Gunn said promptly. "I don't want to hear it…" After a quiet moment, a dramatic moment, Gunn continued softly, "I thought you loved me…"

With tears in her eyes, Fred looked up from the ground. "I do love you…I love everyone, though, Charles. So what if I'm caring about Spike? I still care about you."

"He's a killer," Gunn countered.

"He's reformed," Fred replied.

"He may kill you."

"He won't…" Off of Gunn's doubting look, Fred continued, "I know…"

Gunn gave an exaggerated sigh. "I just don't want to see you get hurt…especially by a murderous vampire."

"Charles, he won't hurt me. And if he does…" Fred sighed. "But he won't."

* * *

"A Paranoxa demon? That's the antidote?" Angel asked with slight doubt in his voice. 

"The Paranoxa's blood is the antidote," Wesley corrected. "And it's very rare to find the demon here in Los Angeles. They mostly inhabit small, woodland areas, although occasionally, they're known to inhabit the sewers also. Construction workers who had came in contact with them usually refer to them as large dogs or gorilla-like, except with claws."

"So it's the sewers for me?" Angel asked even though he knew the answer.

"Oh…" Wesley looked back down at the book he was looking at.

"What 'oh'?" Angel asked suddenly.

"'They have the strength of two or more vampires, claws cause blindness, deafness, and muteness to the victim if slashed at. Their saliva contains poison, and if contacted with a vampire, the poison can kill them.'" Wesley read from the book. He looked up to Lorne and Angel.

"Well, now we know where the poison came from," Lorne said with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, but we don't know who put it in the blood," Angel replied. "And it's strange that this demon who poisoned Spike also carries the antidote."

"Plus, see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil," Lorne stated.

"The strength of two vampires or more…I'm guessing we might need back-up," Wesley suggested. He closed the book and set it off to the side. "I'll go get the weapons," he offered, rising from the chair.

"No!" Angel said. "I'll go alone."

"But Angel—"

"I said I'll go alone. You guys stay here and watch Spike," Angel said calmly, but worry and fear nonetheless was clear in his voice.

"And how are you expecting to get down to the sewers in daylight?" Wesley called after Angel as he walked out of the office.

"I'll take the backdoor," Angel responded impatiently.

* * *

Of course, the backdoor was the basement. Angel had always doubted to believe that the basement could lead to the sewers, but it did. He hadn't paused to even think how helpful it was before he stopped in the middle of a four-way intersection. 

He sighed heavily, mostly angered by the fact that he was lost and mostly irritated that he didn't know which sewer tunnel to take. Pondering on the thought a bit, he decided to go straight from where he was, which meant the sewer tunnel that seemed like it ended in nothing but a black pit. Wishing he brought a flashlight, he started down the one tunnel.

* * *

Fred searched through the endless line of books that sat atop the dusty bookshelf, only stopping occasionally to peer over her glasses at the clock. With a soft sigh, she continued her search for the book Wesley had insisted her to look for. She hadn't given the option much thought when Wesley had stated it because he was watching over Spike instead. But she knew in her heart that when Angel was away, Wesley took command of the hotel and anyone who walked through its front doors. 

"I don't see why I have to do this," Fred stated as she hopped down from the chair she was standing on. She took off her glasses and placed them upon the counter, making her way over to the computer that was rarely used by anyone. "Besides, I don't think we have the book," she continued. "Plus, the Internet's much more efficient when searching for stuff. Such as Dogpile or Google." Her mind blanked as she logged onto the Internet. After a few minutes, she was finally on the Internet and was overwhelmed by the temptation to take a quick glance at one of her favorite sites: the Internet Movie Database.

She hadn't noticed Wesley coming down stairs and was at the point of looking at the message boards before Wesley said, "What's this?"

Fred gasped in shock as she quickly turned around. Her face was slightly pale and her eyes wide. "Wesley!"

"I though I sent you down here to search for the book, not go onto the Internet."

"I was searching for it, but I don't think we have it. And you scared me," she added, turning back around to face the computer screen.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Wesley apologized. "But if you want to help Spike, then you might as well search for the book."

"How is he?" Fred asked softly. "Is he okay?"

"I'm afraid that he's not much better than the last couple of hours. His progression for survival is narrowing and—"

"I need to help him," Fred finished Wesley's sentence. "I just don't know if I can though. I mean I know that you guys are dependant on me whenever we hit rough times with the word 'science' thrown into the equation, but I'm not science girl. I can't do much, a fact that both you and I know, but for this one time, let me help Angel save Spike instead." Fred logged off the Internet and turned to face Wesley. "Let me help Angel fight the demon."

A moment of silence was all Wesley needed to gather up bits of what Fred had said. "I was going to say that Spike's progression for survival is narrowing and there's a great chance that Angel won't be able to find the demon," Wesley said, slightly puzzled at the fact that Fred wanted to help Angel fight the demon.

"Oh…well, I'll look for the book then," Fred offered and then added, "What is it called?"

"It doesn't have a specific title. Instead, a demon symbol is engraved in gold on the front cover," Wesley informed Fred as she went over to the bookshelf.

"What kind of symbol?" she called over her shoulder to Wesley.

"It's…um…a circle with a triangle in the center with a dot in the middle of the triangle."

"Oh…" Fred grunted as she pulled a book out from under a tower of books. The tower of books started to rock gently. Wesley saw this.

"Fred!" Wesley cried out, pulling her back from the bookshelf. The rocking books suddenly decided to topple over to the floor, which resulted in a sound that was very much like a gunshot.

"Thanks, Wesley," Fred said, coughing from the dust that was stirred up.

"Don't mention it." When he saw the book that Fred carried, he added, "Is that the book?"

She turned the book around so she could see the front cover. She saw the gold engraved demon symbol and grinned. "Yep."

Wesley took the book from her and opened it to a certain page. "All of the ingredients should be listed here," he said as he turned to another page.

"What if we don't have the ingredients?" Fred asked, peering at the book over Wesley's shoulder.

"We should…unless Angel doesn't find the demon."

An uneasy silence settled over the hotel as Fred and Wesley glanced at each other. The fact that if Angel fails to find the demon ran through their minds and they tried to not think of the worse if that did happen.

* * *

"I can't find the demon," Angel sighed as he waded through the murky water that reached his waist. A few tunnels back he was about to call it quits if he didn't find the demon but revised that idea when he thought of the gang back at the hotel. Now he wished he kept to that idea. 

Another sigh escaped him as his foot landed on something squishy that was hidden underneath the water. Disgusted by the fact of something dead and squishy under the water, he decided to call the hotel. He took out his cell phone, opened it, and dialed a number.

Wesley set the book down on the counter when the phone rang. He picked up the phone, knowing instinctively that Angel was calling. "Angel?" he asked.

"Wesley."

A short silence came.

"Where are you?" Wesley asked.

"In the sewers."

"No luck?"

"Not one. How's Spike?"

"His chance of survival is—"

"Narrowing, right?"

"He looks bad."

"Well, Wesley, I've come to the decision to—"

Buffy's voice rang in Angel's ears, as if she was there by his side. He wondered what she would do if the person she loved died suddenly. The image of her face, the way she looked, when she plunged the sword into his chest came to his mind. The last image of her before Acathla, summoned by Angelus, sucked him into hell was one image that he would not forget. If my sudden death did that to her, then I wonder what Spike's death would do to her?

"Decision to do what?" Wesley asked, bringing Angel out of his thoughts.

"I'm not going to quit. I'll look for the demon. You just keep an eye out for Spike," Angel ordered, turning off the cell phone.

A deep growl resounded through out the tunnel. Angel figured it was just a vampire that was bored and had nothing better to do, but he was wrong. He turned around and saw the worst thing he could ever imagine.

The demon stood nearly ten feet tall from Angel's view. Its wings were like that of a dragon or a dragonfly. Maybe a dragonfly, Angel thought. Two horns, rounded and pointed like a goat's horns, sat atop the head and its hands and feet were made of long and sharp claws.

"You must be the Paranoxa demon," Angel guessed cautiously.

The demon growled again. It picked up Angel by the collar of his shirt and threw him against the tunnel wall. Pain ricocheted through Angel as he let the cell phone slip into the water. He tried hard to move; yet some part of him was in too much pain to even respond to what Angel wanted to do.

The demon moved to Angel. Each time its foot came down, the walls and ground seemed to shake. As it came closer, the demon appeared blurrier, until blackness came over it.

* * *

"Okay, Wesley, while you gather up the ingredients for the potion, I'll go check on Spike," Fred offered, rising from her chair at the computer. 

"It's not a potion. It's a liquid sort of drink," Wesley informed.

"So it's a potion?"

Wesley sighed and then answered, "Yes, it's a potion. You go check on Spike."

Fred grinned and headed up the stairs. She could hear Conner down the hallway and Lorne singing a weird song in the shower. Gunn was off doing an errand run, so the hotel was nearly empty. If you could call two people gone from the hotel empty, Fred thought. She entered Spike's room and silence immediately drowned out the background noise.

"Spike?"

* * *

The demon hit Angel over and over again like the vampire was a rag doll. Angel couldn't comprehend with what was happening. He felt weak and limp. It was like his brain had shut down, leaving Angel to lie in the murky water and be prey for the demon. 

Spike followed the vampire's scent through the sewers, although at some times the strong smell of the sewer water drowned out the scent. Spike had eavesdropped on the conversation Wesley had with Angel over the cell phone. His first choice after the conversation had ended was to go back up to his room and not care about whether or not Angel got killed or not. But he revised the thought when he pondered on the fact some more.

Since Angel's scent had veered off to the sewer tunnel to the left of Spike, he decided to take that tunnel.

Alone in the tunnel gave him time to think of the actions he made at the hotel. If Angel doesn't kill the demon and the demon kills him instead, then Angel doesn't get the demon's blood for the antidote. And if that happens, then I would die also. Spike knew that only thinking about himself and not Angel was selfish, but he didn't care.

He saw Angel in the distance. He also saw the demon hit Angel over and over again like he was a rag doll. Spike looked around at the area around him and was a bit disappointed to not find anything to kill the demon with, except…broken pipe, Spike thought, eyeing the broken piece of metal that floated gently in the water. He picked it up and smirked.

The demon growled. It was ready to kill this vampire. Its eyes were blood red and its claws gleamed from a mysterious light. Angel prepared for the worst.

"Hey, demon!"

That voice…Angel recognized the voice. That voice sounds familiar.

Spike hit the demon in the head with the broken pipe. The demon growled loudly. "Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you." The demon growled again and swung a fist at Spike. Spike ducked just in time. "This is fun." Spike drove the sharp end of the broken pipe into the demon's chest. The demon roared and struck at Spike with a fist. Spike fell to the ground, unconscious.

The demon grunted as it pulled the pipe out of its chest. It threw it angrily against the wall. The metal pipe flew off the wall with a hollow clunk that echoed in the sewer tunnels.

Angel gathered his senses that were screaming at him to get up and fight. The demon shot Angel a dangerous glance that probably meant death. Angel stood up weakly and looked at the area he was in. There were no weapons around and Spike was unconscious. And my cell phone—

The demon stepped on something that was hidden by the water. Electrical sparks danced around the demons foot as the hidden object was crushed. "And my cell phone is destroyed," Angel murmured.

The demon raised a fist. Angel knew what that fist meant, yet he couldn't seem to move to avoid the strike that suddenly came at him. He fell to the ground.

Angel didn't know what would happen next or where he was going to go once this demon finished with him. All he knew was defeat. The demon defeated him in a way no other demon did or could do. I'm sorry, he thought, preparing himself for the final strike.

The demon roared. The final strike didn't come and as Angel opened his eyes, he saw the demon fall to the ground next to him. The demon was dead.

Two pairs of hands helped Angel up from the ground.

"Are you all right?"

Angel grinned slightly. "Yeah, I am."

"It's a good thing we found you. This place is like a maze."

The voices belonged to Gunn and Wesley.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Gunn said, grinning warmly.

"All that matters is that we found you before…" Wesley didn't finish. He trailed off as Angel spotted the unconscious Spike nearby.

"What about him?" Angel asked.

"He's down and out," Wesley answered grimly.

* * *

A/N: Paranoxa demon, attack! Okay, remembering Pokemon right now…but if you don't review, whom will I give all this hot, fresh, baked, ooey-gooey chocolaty chips to? Oh well, might as well throw them away… 


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